


Time for the Moon Night

by jisungtheworld (winwinnie)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, End of the World, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death, Permanent Injury, but just specifically in south korea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-01-08 03:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21228797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winwinnie/pseuds/jisungtheworld
Summary: "Jisung?" Felix's voice gets his attention as soon as he enters the room, and for once, Jisung doesn't comment on the wire radio headset looped around his ears. His hand, the one that's constantly fiddling with the frequency, is still."What? What's happening?"Felix turns to meet his gaze, and his eyes are rimmed with red. "They're saying it's the end of the world."





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> title from Time for the Moon Night - Gfriend

### Number One: The Letter

_ Dear Lee Minho_

_It is my greatest please to inform you of your acceptance into Yellow Wood Academy. We were highly impressed by your testing, and after several months of decision-making, we are delighted to confirm that you are one of the eight students who will be attending in the boy's wing._

_The new term, as you should have already been informed during the application process, starts several weeks earlier than most other schools. Lessons shall start officially begin on August 15th 20XX._

_Since we are aware that for many students this will be their first year in attendance, it is also repeated here that there is a mandatory pre-term introduction. Every student arrives at the school two weeks before the previously stated date, in a unique chance to become acquainted with other students early._

_To cause as little interruption to the families of students as possible, and due to the highly classified nature of the location of Yellow Wood Academy, we are currently unable to allow students to be dropped off. Instead, we provide _ _an exclusive minibus to each region of the country. _ _This shall arrive at precisely 2:30 AM on August 1st 20XX, from location -- ----- -------- ---._

_Attached to this letter is your exclusive bus pass. Failure to provide this upon collection shall result in the denial of your access to Yellow Wood Academy._

_We look forward to seeing you in the new term. This letter comes in response to your application form, attached here: -----_

_Many thanks,_

_ Yellow Wood Academy_

_Lee Minho MINIBUS PASS_

_ROUTE: Seoul AND Gimpo TO YELLOW WOOD ACADEMY_

_ROUTE TIME: three hours, thirty minutes_

_ADDITIONAL PASSENGERS: Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin_


	2. Chapter One

_[The world is green. Hundreds- no, thousands of shades shot through with the golden light of day. It's so high up, and his legs dangle off the side of the branch dangerously, but there's no one to care. This is where it begins.]_

Lee Minho's first memory comes in the form of a tree.

Or, more specifically, from the branches of the tree. He remembers sitting high up off the ground, feet dangling below him and feeling like he was on top of the world.

The tree in question was a ginormous oak that had been in the back of his garden since even his great-great-grandparents were little. Over the years, the branches had bent towards the ground, shrouding the trunk in bright green leaves and creating a sort of paradise. If you caught the evening at just the right time, the world was soaked in orange and yellow.

Minho, who must have only been about four at the time, had been obsessed with climbing it. The very furthest of the branches just brushed his bedroom window, and he'd stayed awake on too many nights to count just dreaming of what it would be like. Of how easy it would be to simply slide open the latch, use the key his parents didn't know he'd stolen, and climb as high up into the night sky as he could.

It was a big dream for such a small child.

His first memory, from the top of that tree, is just as beautiful as the dream it had grown from.

Even now, thinking back on it, he remembers being able to hear the screams of his parents. Their missing child, now stranded several feet above the ground and looking like he never wanted to come back down. He remembers the feeling of his legs dandling below him. The very first time he scaled up the branches, how the bark felt against his palms, trying to work out which were strong enough to support his weight.

He remembers feeling like he was on top of the world.

Looking back, it was at that moment that the rest of his life was decided. Right from the very first step off the ground, right up until now, staring at the letter of acceptance in his hands.

Because it was then that Lee Minho fell in love with climbing.  
  
  


\---

  
  
_[It's dark, too early in the morning for any light except the faint flickering of streetlights. The streets are blurry through the warped plastic of the bus-stop, and the watch on his wrist counts down the seconds until he's supposed to be picked up. There's a suitcase by his feet and a bus pass tucked into his pocket.]_

"You're for Yellow Wood too?"

Minho looks up from his phone. Really, the blank screen was only mocking him, every second that he spent staring at his reflection only rubbing in the fact that his parents hadn't even wished him goodbye. Not that he had expected anything different, but still. Glancing at the screen one last time, he decides that he's just setting himself up for disappointment if he waits for any longer. "Yeah."

The boy next to him smiles. There's a small ink stain by the side of his mouth that Minho almost points out, before deciding against it. "I would say that I was too, but," he gestures to the empty street around them, "I'm pretty sure that we're the only people crazy enough to be up at ass o'clock on a Saturday."

Minho lets out a huff of laughter in agreement. He's right. It may be August, but it's still too early in the morning to be warm. Instead, the plastic walls of the bus-stop they're sheltering in are covered in frost, and the only people awake are insane runners or young parents. He can hear the faint music of tv from one of the houses behind them, but even that is the only sound. The road the minibus is supposed to be picking them up from is deserted.

The boy's smile turns to a grin, pleased with the reaction Minho gave him. He takes a few steps back, pulling an impressively large tower of luggage with him, and sits on the seat of the bus-stop behind them. As they settle back into silence again, Minho takes the time to look him up and down.

There's only eight of them attending in the boy's wing, after all.

He's tall, but with a babyish face, maybe a few years younger than Minho himself. Aside from the mountain of suitcases, the boy doesn't seem to have much with him. His wrists are empty of jewellery or watches, pockets devoid of a phone, and the only thing he's carrying on him is thick leather notebook.

It's obviously worn. The pages are yellowed, the edge of them covered with pen stains that match the ink by the side of his lips. Minho cringes. Yeah, he probably should have mentioned that, but it's kind of too late now. Instead, he simply turns back to facing the road.

Whatever. 

There's always another chance. Hopefully someone else will tell him, and then Minho can just claim he has really bad eyesight and didn't notice. Sure, he'd then have to keep up a network of elaborate lies for the rest of the year they were at Yellow Wood, probably slipping up eventually and being thrown out from whatever flimsy friendship groups he may have made for being a liar, but hey. Worse things have happened.

Or-

He turns around again. "You have ink by your mouth." 

The boy flushes pink. His hand flies up to the stain, and he rubs at it for a few seconds until Minho nods that it's disappeared. "Oh. Thanks."

See? That wasn't too bad. Minho smiles, pleased with himself. He's about to go back to staring at the road when the boy speaks up again.

"Is this your first year?"

"Hm?"

The boy flushes again. "Is this your first year at Yellow Wood? I thought it might not be, since you look a few years older than me, but..."

Minho shakes his head. "Nope. I'm eighteen, but I only applied this year. To be honest, I didn't think I'd even get in."

"Oh," the boy looks disappointed for a second, but quickly schools his expression. There's something behind his eyes, Minho thinks, something more than simple curiosity fuelling all these questions. "What did you do to get in, then?"

The phrasing itself seems so innocent, but Minho's similar enough to work out exactly what the boy's doing. He's trying to establish himself before the term has even begun, finding out everything about his classmates under the pretence of politeness. It's kind of manipulative, but Minho doesn't really care. The boy can do whatever he wants. It's not his problem. "I'm a climber."

"You must be really good."

"I guess." He'd never really done it to be 'good'. His obsession with climbing, much for the same reason he danced, was simply because he enjoyed the thrill of it. Sitting at the top of the world, looking down as everyone else faded into the distance, there was a strange addiction to it. The boy looks like he's about to ask something else, but Minho decides he's had enough, and turns the tables. "What about you?"

"Me?" The boy frowns, looking down at his notebook, "I'm a writer, I guess."

Minho takes another look at the leather-bound journal, hoping for something that will at least give him an edge on the younger boy. A name, or someth- there. Etched into the cover is what Minho assumes is the boy's name. "Seungmin?"

The boy - Seungmin, judging by his reaction, looks surprised. "How did you know that?" He asks, and then clutches the journal to his chest even tighter, adjusting his arms to hide the words. He'd worked it out before Minho could reply. Smart boy.

"I'm Minho," says Minho, smiling. He doesn't want to seem like a threat, more just wanting to give Seungmin a slight warning. There are plenty of people he can manipulate, Minho just wants him to know that he isn't one of them.

To his surprise, Seungmin returns the gesture. He looks him up and down, as if seeing him in a new light. "Nice to meet you. I think we'll get along well."

Before Minho can reply, there's the unmistakable rumble of an engine in the distance. Two twin beams of light round the corner, much too bright for the darkness of the night. Minho squints on instinct, raising his hand to cover his eyes until they adjust properly.

By the time they have, the minibus has pulled up in front of him and Seungmin. It's exactly what he'd expected, even down to the design. Bright yellow, although the shade has turned a garish orange from the street lights, with the huge logo of Yellow Wood Academy printed on the side.

Minho rolls his eyes.

Whoever Yellow Wood's designer is, they need to be fired. Considering that the location of the school is supposed to be top-secret, it's pretty stupid that their minibuses are painted highlighter yellow. If someone wanted to follow them, they wouldn't even need to try very hard. The bus practically glows in the dark.

The driver gets up from his seat, sliding open the door on the side of the bus. There's a smile plastered onto his face. He looks too comfortable, cheesy grin and all, and it just puts Minho on edge. Even as he checks his bus ticket, Minho doesn't return it. 

The man seems to notice this. "Cheer up," he says, slapping Minho on the back in a gesture that's supposed to be familiar. In the end, it just makes Minho's skin crawl. He keeps his face blank, and tries not to feel too proud when Seungmin doesn't return the smile either.

It sours the atmosphere slightly, and when the man returns from piling their suitcases into the back of the minibus, his smile has become stretched and forced. He steps back into the bus and gestures for them to enter. This time, as Minho enters, his grin becomes slightly more swarmy, belittling and mocking. "Why don't you let your little friend enter first?"

Minho glances behind him.

Sure enough, Seungmin is standing behind him. He looks just as confused as Minho at the driver's words, both of them trying to work out the hidden motives behind the words unsuccessfully. In the end, Minho just shrugs.

"Sure," he says, stepping out of the way to allow Seungmin past. He genuinely has no idea why he couldn't enter first, but he doesn't really care either way. There're more than enough seats for him to sit by himself. As long as he doesn't let the driver's words get to him by making him overthink, then there's no point acting like he cares when he clearly doesn't.

When it comes to his time to enter, he simply blinks at the driver. His face doesn't move at all, and for a second, the man's grin falters. It's only for a fraction of time, but even that's enough for Minho to catch. "Thanks," he says, as the door slides shut behind him, and then takes in the inside of the bus.

There are roughly ten seats: two sets of two and one, and then a row of four at the very back. Seungmin's taken the first seat at the front. His notebook has finally come down from being clutched to his chest, and he smiles at Minho when he sees him looking. There's a seat next to him free, and he glances to it. Not by a lot, but just enough to let Minho know he's free to sit there.

By contrast, the row at the back has been taken over by a different boy. He's got dark hair flopping into his face, obscuring most of it from view, but it's not quite long enough to hide the dark ink of a tattoo behind his left ear. He hadn't even looked up as Minho entered, instead staring out of the window like it's the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

That must be Changbin, Minho thinks. He might have gotten on from an earlier stop since he hadn't waited with him and Seungmin, but the Yellow Wood logo on his yellow hoodie tells a slightly different story. Even if he only looks a year or so younger than Minho himself, it's obvious that this is at least his second year attending.

All in all, there are some pretty serious 'don't sit with me vibes' coming from him. Minho almost wants to sit next to him just to fuck with him. 

Seungmin shifts in his seat, opening his notebook with the rustling of paper and getting Minho's attention. Really, he could just sit by himself. He wouldn't have to talk to anyone that way, maybe even get some rest on the trip. His hand automatically goes to the earbuds in his pocket. Even if he can't get to sleep, long bus rides are always good for coming up with new choreography, or new climbing moves.

_Where to sit?_

Sit with Seungmin_ **X ** **B** _Sit with Changbin

_ **A** _

Sit alone

It only takes him a moment to decide. He doesn't want to disturb Seungmin, since the younger boy probably just wants some time alone to write or whatever. As much as he'd like to annoy Changbin, there's not much point in making enemies before the term has even begun. Besides, there are only nine of them. It doesn't matter much what he does now, since he'll have other chances when they reach Yellow Wood Academy. 

He shoots an apologetic look at Seungmin, before sitting behind him. There's enough space across the two seats for him to pull his legs up, curling towards the window and putting his headphones in. The glass is cool against his head, and the gentle hum of the minibus as the engine starts up again is enough to let him close his eyes.

The very first lines of the song play as he begins to drift off.

_The trembling stars are twinkling_

_Where are you looking at?_

_I think you'll be gone soon_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying out a new game-like format, so yall are going to have to put up with the ugly scene setters at the start
> 
> also!  
as you may have noticed, there will be options throughout this fic. the first few will be in the middle of chapters, so i can set up the story, but after a while there will be chances for you to vote on the actions.
> 
> thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter Two

_[The sun is just beginning to rise. He watches as dark trees block out any light that might have made it through the forest, and shuts his notebook. The minibus has just come to a stop, and the ink stains on his fingers are nowhere near disappearing anytime soon.]_   
  
  


"You gonna wake him up, or what?"

The voice startles Seungmin out of his own thoughts. Slowly, and hoping his cheeks haven't flushed too brightly, he takes the pen out of his mouth. The lid is still on, thank goodness. Even if it is covered in distinctive bite marks - the result of one too many absent-minded hours - he doubts it'll leak again any time soon.

He can't help the way his hand goes up to the corner of his mouth, though. Something about the way Minho had pointed it out earlier - he'd been on high alert ever since.

Minho had seemed sharp. He'd spoken with a bite, a carefully calculated tone beneath every sentence. When Seungmin had tried to press a little deeper, he'd known immediately. His responses had been empty, his smile stretched and forced and yet-

Seungmin had still wanted to him to sit next to him.

"What?" Mouth now pen-free, he can finally ask what's going on. His mind is still cloudy from how deep down in his thoughts he'd managed to sink. It takes him a while to focus on his surroundings again. Besides, he can just see the head of the driver across the aisle, checking his watch and grinning smarmily when he notices Seungmin staring. Seungmin looks back at him with empty eyes, and decides to take as long as possible climbing off the bus just to spite him.

"Are. You. Going. To. Wake. Him."

Each word is aimed right at him. Seo Changbin stares down into Seungmin's seat, hands buried in his hideously yellow jumper. His voice is just as gravelly as Seungmin would have expected, even if the boy himself has a rather short stature. The light catches a tattoo above his ear, and Seungmin wonders what it means.

It might only be a word, but it's got to have some sort of significance.

Words always have significance.

Changbin is referring to the boy still sitting in the row behind Seungmin. Minho's head is pressed against the window. There are earphones almost falling out of his ears, the faintest melody of a song just about audible through the otherwise silent bus. He's fast asleep, frowning a little, and Changbin is asking whether Seungmin cares enough to leave him there or not.

He doesn't.

There's something about Minho that sets Seungmin's teeth on edge. Nothing that a short investigation can't fix, however. Seungmin is nothing if not endless curiosity, documenting every subtle slip-up in his leather-bound notebook. Its pages are covered with scribbled secrets, because once Seungmin is curious, there's no stopping him. Line after line, the ink staining his fingers with a scientific precision.

He assumes that's why he was accepted to Yellow Wood in the first place.

Changbin moves suddenly. Seungmin must have taken a few seconds too long, because he leans over and shakes Minho harshly, not breaking eye-contact the whole time. Minho's head almost hits the window with how violent the action is, earphones falling from his ears and clattering to the floor. Changbin doesn't look sorry. It's purposeful, telling Seungmin he took long.

Maybe he's sending a message - telling Seungmin that such hesitation will do him no good in a place like this.

Or maybe Seungmin's just overthinking things. He watches as Changbin steps off the bus, ignoring the hand the driver outstretches to help him climb down. The yellow hoodie almost makes his skin glow in the still-dark morning hours. Not in a good way, though. He looks sallow, swallowed up by the fabric, and Seungmin watches with a morbid fascination as he leans against the minibus, waiting for the rest of them to exit.

"You coming?"

Minho's voice is dry. Not without an air of sarcasm, either. His earphones are hanging out of his jeans pocket now, but they've left an angry red line across his cheek. 

Seungmin doesn't point it out.

Minho isn't expecting a reply, he guesses. Sure enough, the older boy leaves the bus without so much as glancing back. He goes to stand by Changbin. Just close enough that they're an uncomfortable distance apart, but too far for Changbin to complain. Pushing boundaries, Seungmin thinks. Something inside of him admires it.

He finally leaves the minibus.

Outside, the queue of other buses they'd parked behind doesn't obstruct the view of Yellow Wood any more. It's a huge building, just as old and creepy as Seungmin had expected. There are at least three floors, meaning the building towers high about the dense forest to either side of fenced off courtyard. It's all built out of a pale stone, with high doors to match and large windows at regular intervals. 

It doesn't give him much faith, however, that most of them have been barred over. 

"It's just off to the hall now," says the driver, busy pulling their suitcases out from the back of the minibus. "That's where the induction'll be. Good luck!"

His words fall onto blank faces.

Instead of moving, as the driver must have expected them to do, they stand and watch as he pulls the last of their cases to the floor. There's a split second of annoyance across his face when he sees them motionless, but it's gone before Seungmin can notice much more about it. Instead, he simply replaces the expression with the same grin, laughing out loud.

"You need me to show you the way?"

He's moving without confirmation anyway. The courtyard is large, but the parking bays are close enough to the large doors that Seungmin assumes is the main entrance. They're there in no time at all.

The driver pats Minho on the back again, just as they reach the doors. He puts down the heavy suitcases he's pulling behind him to do so, moving purposefully with that same forced smile spread over his face. 

There's no denying the action is deliberate. They'd both seen how uncomfortable Minho had looked as they'd entered the minibus, and the way he'd stared down the man had seemed like more of a challenge than anything. Now, the driver is taunting him.

The action is small, light enough that Seungmin wouldn't have noticed if he was any less observant. 

Minho stiffens. His eyes are still just as steely, movements just as calculated. He turns and smiles at the driver when the older man pulls away, fingers twitching just for a moment. Just as forced. Just as stretched. And yet Seungmin can't deny that somehow - _somehow_ \- Minho still has the upper hand.

The paper in the leather-bound journal calls out for a new secret. 

The driver moves away after that, pulling the suitcases behind him again. They rattle as they're dragged across the cracked stone courtyard. All three of them stand silently for a moment, watching as he turns the corner. 

Seungmin doesn't need to look beside him to know they're all watching with the same empty expression. 

It's Changbin who pulls away first. The bright yellow of his hoodie is enough to remind Seungmin that Changbin has been at Yellow Wood for at least a year already. He carries himself with the air of someone who knows where they're going, and pushes the doors to the main entrance open.

Perhaps it says something about his character that he doesn't look back.

Beside him, Minho is also starting to move. His eyes have followed the driver until there's nothing more to stare emptily at, and now he turns to follow after Changbin. Seungmin watches as he takes a few steps forward. And then-

Minho immediately turns off. There's another, smaller, corridor leading off from the one Changbin had disappeared down. Even from this distance, Seungmin can make out the cheerily yellow signs pointing them the right way. He's not surprised that Minho's path is in the opposite direction.

There are three ways he can go.

He could follow the driver around the corner. Surely that's what Minho had been contemplating, right? Something about the man had caused his skin to crawl, and the goose bumps down his arms has nothing to do with the chill wind blowing through the courtyard. The secret itches, begging to be written down, but- does Seungmin know all the details yet? 

And at the same time, the same curiosity pulls him to Minho. The yellow signs seem to mock him, staring him down, but Seungmin is sure Minho would be less than pleased if he found himself with a follower. 

Or he could simply follow Changbin. A quick check of the minibuses lined up at the side of one of the buildings shows that only one is missing. It's unlikely that the other six students would all be arriving at the same time, so Seungmin can only assume they're waiting in the hall. It would be a good chance to get to know someone new, preferably less guarded than Changbin and Minho. 

_Who to follow?_

_Follow Changbin _ ** X B ** Follow Minh_o_

** _A_ **   
_Follow the Driver_

Something makes him make the decision before he even realises it. One moment he's standing frozen, and the next he's catching up to Minho. The corridors are empty, but the older boy still doesn't realise until Seungmin is right by his side. The sound of his footsteps on the hard, wooden floor were quiet enough for him to reach Minho silently.

"Where are you going?"

His voice is a little louder than he'd hoped. It echoes rather violently, and Minho practically jumps two inches off the floor. He spins round, glaring at Seungmin. The other boy stares back with the same impassive stare Minho had given him earlier. Something inside him is prideful, happy that he'd made Minho lose his composure so easily.

Friendliness hadn't worked earlier, on the bus. Just like Minho had warned him without words by avoiding his questions, Seungmin is now returning the favour. 

It doesn't last long, however.

The corridor suddenly reaches a sharp right turn. It splits off in two directions from there, one leading forward and the other veering off to their side. It's in the direction their original path would have taken, and that's probably why Minho hesitates.

They can't be too far behind Changbin, or someone will start to get suspicious. Seungmin doubts Changbin would tell anyone they'd gone missing, but their presence still won't go missed for long. There'll be a register at some point, and maybe the students that had already arrived were waiting for them.

No matter what they do, turning up late will raise alarms. It begs the question of why Minho thought it was a good idea to wander off in the first place. 

"We should go back," says Seungmin. He thumbs through the pages of his journal absent-mindedly, hoping that the older boy decides to listen. There's something about him that he can't put his finger on, and it would be a shame if he were kicked out for misbehaviour quite so soon.

Minho simply raises a finger to his lips.

Seungmin frowns. He doesn't say anything else, and simply strains his ears, trying to listen out for what Minho's so interested. The corridor is empty. Silent, and they're nowhere near anyone else. But he watches as Minho takes a step to the left, almost pressing his ear up against the cold stone wall to their side, and copies the action.

_"When will they be arriving?" _

Seungmin looks up in surprise, already itching to reach for his pen and paper. The voice is quite high, but definitely mature. It's the voice of a teacher if he's ever heard one, which makes sense. The rest of the students are gathered in the hall. Whoever’s talking has no idea they can hear them. 

_"In around twenty minutes, hopefully." _It's the voice of their driver. He sounds more tired than he did in the minibus, but that doesn't stop Seungmin from rolling his eyes as he remembers that fake grin. 

_"And what about the Daegu boy?"_

_"Nothing. He's still too ill to board, and they've had no luck with diagnosis yet. Mr. Kim reached him this morning apparently, but there's been radio silence since then."_

Silence, for a few seconds. Seungmin's mind is reeling slightly, but before he has the chance to sort through his thoughts, the teacher is speaking again.

_"That settles it, then. We cannot have unauthorised members of staff unresponsive. You and I shall head out to Daegu as soon as the initial arrangements have been made."_

_"But what about the kids?"_

_"What about them? Our Ace student from last year is still in attendance, as well as Bang Chan and Seo Changbin. If we leave at curfew, we should be back by the morning. They'll never even know we were gone."_

The driver replies, but his voice has become quieter. It's too faint from Seungmin to make out, so he pulls away from the wall. Minho follows his lead a few moments later. They stare at each other for a few seconds, each trying to make sense of what they'd just heard.

It would be nicer if they had more time.

But the fact the driver was moving away from the wall means their conversation was likely coming to an end, and they would be coming to check up on the students in the hall. Right where they would be expecting Seungmin and Minho to be.

"We should go back," Seungmin says, voice still quiet. This time, Minho nods, and they begin their journey back down the corridor.


	4. Chapter Three

_[It's raining for once. The world is still hot and heavy, but there's rain, and it hits the pavement. The garage is filled with noise. But it's still not enough to drown out the static from the radio in front of him.]_

Felix can't remember a time without the world buzzing at his feet.

He'd first taken his parents' bedside radio apart when he was four. Pulled it off the counter and clutched it to his chest, carefully down the stairs all the way until he reached the garage. It was raining outside, you see, and Felix was bored. The garage was where all the interesting things were, and he's seen his father attempt to fix enough items to know he'd need tools.

And he found them.

Australia was warm and hot, so he sat on the cool floor and placed the radio in front of him. He lined up the screwdrivers and wire cutters and pliers by size. There were a pair of funny looking goggles by the chair, so he placed them on his head.

The world was buzzing, and he was curious.

When he thinks back now, Felix can pinpoint the moment it all began. Sat there on the floor, a tangle of wires in front of him, and clumsy hands just beginning to reach out for the right tools. Chubby fingers finally flipping the radio over, revealing a small catch on the side.

He opened it up.

That was where his parents found him, a few minutes later. Still sat on the floor, still cradling the equipment in his hands, goggles long having slipped down to around his neck. The roar of the rain had disguised their calls for him, but it couldn't hide the sound of the static.

The silver antenna was fully exposed. Reaching right up to the ceiling, much taller than even Felix himself, and waving dangerously.

But the radio had still crackled to life. Felix's fingers danced over the buttons on the front, twisting and turning with reckless abandon, flickering from burst of static to burst of static, but it had _worked_.

And the world began to buzz.  
  
  


_\---_   
  
  


"It's a good thing they signposted the way," says Jeongin, good-naturedly. He nods at a sunshine-yellow sign as they go by, and turns in the direction that the arrow is pointing.

Felix can't help but agree. When he'd first climbed onto the minibus and been gestured over by the older, he'd been sure that Jeongin - despite his baby face - was already a student. Especially when compared to how shy he'd been. Jeongin truly was a blessing. It was certainly a surprise to find out it was all of their first years in attendance.

"They'd have to send someone to help us find our way, otherwise," Felix says. He'd been self-concious of his accent at first, but Jeongin hadn't seemed to care less. He didn't mention it when Felix stumbled over some of the words, and his almost encyclopedic knowledge of Yellow Wood was too impressive to go without asking questions. "How many students are attending this year?"

"Eight."

He frowns at Jeongin's answer. "Eight? That doesn't seem like many at all." There's a pause, and then- "Do you think they sent us on the same minibus because we're the only new students?"

"We won't be the only new students." Jeongin leads them around another corner, onto to be faced with an even longer corridor. The layout of the house seems to be a maze. Felix is sure they've gone in at least three circles, even though they've been following the instructions perfectly. "Besides, apparently eight is a lot for this place. We all know how difficult it was to get in."

Felix nods, and doesn't go to speak again. Jeongin gives him a nervous smile.

It had already become clear on the bus that he really hadn't expected to be accepted into Yellow Wood in the first place. A lot of his confidence was nervous energy, he had explained, and he was actually feeling rather overwhelmed by the whole situation. He'd read the letter, of course, but apparently, he'd been so nervous that he'd researched everything he could possibly find on the situation.

It seemed a bit strange, at points. It wasn't like they were about to be tested or anything. They'd already proven themselves worthy of Yellow Wood, and that in itself had been quite an impressive feat. But, in a strange way, Felix could relate. Until Jeongin had introduced himself, he'd been in a similar position. Although he'd sent his letter, and he knew that his application had gone well, he still hadn't been expecting to get in. A whole summer of lounging about and _not_ studying Korean hadn't paid off.

He'd crammed as much as he could afterwards, of course, but his mind really wasn't the type for languages. They just didn't work in the same way mechanics did. If it was anything like the radio pieces he kept in his pocket at all times, he'd be fluent effortlessly.

But no such luck.

Maybe he could build something to translate for him. The radio might not be as advanced as a computer, but he could easily send a frequency out to a tower. If there was someone there who could translate for him, send the message back and tell Felix how to reply...

They'd need a strong signal, sure, but that would be easy. He could bypass the encryptions for some place high-up, and then he wouldn't even need to pay them. Of course, it wouldn't work in the long run, but-

"Is that it?" Jeongin asks, pointing to a large set of heavy wooden doors. They look solid, tall and imposing as they tower over the three approaching students. But the signposts they've been following point towards them.

You're the expert, Felix wants to say. But Joengin's face has gone pale, and maybe the internet didn't provide a map of the place. "I guess so," is all he says in the end. He glances behind him once, and then pushes them open.

Empty chairs stare back at them.

Felix follows Jeongin inside, letting the doors shut behind him. The hall isn't actually just empty chairs, as he'd first thought. It's large, with huge glass window panes taking up most of one of the walls. The ceiling is high and the walls are the same stone as the rest of the building, decorated with the same impressive architecture. There's a screen at one end, a projector hanging down, and the chairs he'd first spotted are on the opposite side to the door they'd just opened.

They aren't the only chairs out, he now realises. Facing the screen, backs to the windows, is a horseshoe of not-so empty chairs.

Three of them are empty.

Felix scans the people staring back at him before he gets any closer. The energy they're giving off is hostile and closed off, even if only three of them are wearing the distinctive Yellow Wood hoodies. They've separated right down the middle, leaving the three empty seats like a divider between them.

First is a dark-haired boy with a hoodie, a tattoo just above his ear just visible in the morning light. Next to him is a blond boy with big cheeks and a shiny badge pinned onto his hoodie, who smiles at Felix as he walks towards them. And beside him is a boy with curly hair. He seems to be in the middle of his friends in terms of friendliness, but gives off an air of command anyway. There's another badge - albeit smaller than the blond boy's - on his hoodie.

There are only two boys on the other side of the gap. Neither of them have hoodies, and yet they seem like they belong here with much more certainty than the first group. One looks slightly older than the other, with dark hair flopping into his eyes and headphones poking out of the top of his jumper. The younger boy is clutching a leather journal to his chest, fiddling with a pen in his other hand.

Felix is more than slightly intimidated.

But he seems to have some things right, nonetheless. As they approach, the curly-haired boy stands up, smiling at them. He gestures for them to take a seat, leaving them with not much choice but to accept. Jeongin takes the offer first, with Felix following soon after. 

It leaves one seat empty.

"Who are we waiting for now?" says Earphones, crossing his arms. "There was only space for one more minibus in the carpark. If he's not here now, when's he coming?"

"Got somewhere to be?" Curly-hair fires back. He still hasn't sat down, confirming Felix's suspicions that he's got some position of authority. The badge on his chest glints now that he's facing the light, and Felix leans closer to make out the words. It reads, in big printed letters: _Dorm Leader_.

Earphones doesn't look very pleased with that answer, but also seems too apathetic to lend it anymore thought. "Just wond-"

He never finishes his sentence. Just as he starts to speak, the heavy wooden doors to the hall fly open, and a tall lady walks in. She's wearing a neat grey suit, hair pulled tightly back into a bun, clipboard in hand. It should be the epitome of neat and organised, but something is off. She looks shifty, searching the hall for something.

"Chan," she says, in a voice just as prim as her looks would suggest, "Could I speak to you for a moment?"

Curly-hair - whose real name must be Chan - bows respectfully. "Of course, Miss," he replies, before following the lady out of the room. The door swings shut behind them with a bang, and the hall is left in silence. 

They sit like that, stunned, for a good few seconds. 

"Is that normal?"

It's Jeongin, of _course_ it's Jeongin. He clamps a hand over his mouth as soon as the words leave, blushing quite an impressive colour. "Sorry-" he says, although he hasn't taken away his hand so it's rather difficult to make out what he's saying, "I- I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

Tattoo doesn't even bat an eyelid. But Blondie softens at the sound, looking over to Jeongin with a strange look on his face. "Kind of," he says, glancing towards the door where Chan had disappeared, "I guess it doesn't happen too often, either." 

Jeongin frowns. Knowing him and his seemingly non-existant mouth-to-brain filter, he's about to say something else. Blondie hadn't seemed too stand-offish, and Felix didn't think that Tattoo could be all that mean. But the doors swing open again as soon as he goes to open his mouth, and Chan walks back inside.

"I trust you to sort things out." The teacher’s words fade away into the emptiness of the hall. She hadn't been speaking to them, they'd just caught the last of her conversation with Chan. His face is pale against the light streaming in through the windows, and the sound of the teacher's heels making their way back down the corridor echoes eerily. 

"What was that about?" It's Blondie who speaks, leaning forwards in his seat. Both him and Tattoo seem concerned- although Chan appears to be fine. They must be close friends, Felix thinks. There must be some sort of way to tell that Chan's unsettled, why would he be asking otherwise? In fact, why is he unsettled in the first place?

Chan shakes his head at Blondie once, telling him to drop it, before turning to face the rest of the group. Earphones and Journal look just as uninterested as before, not to his surprise.

"So," Chan starts. He's certainly got the voice of a leader, as it fills the hall easily. They all sit a little straighter on reflex. "As you probably already heard, I'm Chan. Along with Changbin and Jisung- " He points to Tattoo and Blondie in turn, "-I've been at Yellow Wood for two years. That lady there was Mrs Min, she's a teacher here."

Journal puts his hand up, "Where's she going?"

Chan smiles at him. "I'm afraid she didn't say. Can the rest of you introduce yourselves? After that, we can assign roommates. There's nothing else scheduled for today, so it would be good to set everything up as early as possible."

Journal nods, satisfied by that answer. "I'm Seungmin."

"Minho," says Earphones.

It's then Felix's turn, then Jeongin. After they've been around the whole row of chairs, empty seat skilfully avoided, Chan starts talking again. 

"There's a tradition at Yellow Wood about rooms. Since I'm the Dorm Leader," he points to the shiny badge on his chest, "I don't have to share. After that, it's priority for the new arrivals, in order of who entered the hall last."

Everyone turns to look at Felix.

It takes him a second to work out why - _was it really him who'd been last?_ \- but casting his mind back, he quickly realises they're right. Which leaves him with the decision. All the pressure of the person he'll be stuck sleeping in the same room with for the next year, all because he stepped over a line slightly later than everyone else. 

He runs through the options in his mind.

Changbin - _no_, the boy scares him a little too much, same with Minho. There's no way anyone in their right mind would choose either of them, which leaves Jisung, Jeongin and Seungmin.

_Who to dorm with?_

Dorm with Jisung **X** **B **Dorm with Jeongin

**A**

Dorm with Seungmin

Jisung looks surprised for a second, as does Jeongin. It hurts him a little when the younger boy sinks into his chair, but Felix ignores in favour of smiling at Jisung. This way he'll make a new friend, and no offense to Jeongin, but he couldn't imagine dorming with him. Not that they hadn't gotten along, just... Felix thinks he'd feel much more comfortable with someone who had _actually_ been at Yellow Wood before. Jisung beams back, and Felix can't help but think he made the right decision.

"Okay then," says Chan, also sounding a bit taken aback. He gets over it quickly though, looking at each of the boys and to the heavy hall doors. "Well, you can get set up now, if you'd like. I'm sure Sung will explain if you have any questions."

"Come on," Jisung is up and taking his hand before Felix can even blink, and he's pulled out of his chair in one smooth motion. 

"We're not going to wait for the others?" he asks, casting one last look behind his shoulder as Jisung drags him out of the hall. He manages to open the heavy doors pretty efficiently considering he's only got one free hand, but his silence tells Felix that they're not going to wait. Who needs to know potentially important information anyway, right?

He's brought down the corridor they'd originally travelled down, and then Jisung is taking a left that hadn't been on the yellow sheets of paper. The house is like a maze, but he seems to navigate with ease. Felix has never been too good with directions, but maybe there's a chance that he won't get too lost is Jisung is with him. 

The corridor leads to a smaller room. There's a large door with a lock on it set into the stone wall opposite them, and the windows show that this must be some kind of store-room. It's certainly colder than the rest of the house. Light streams through the window, but there's an almost-tangible breeze that sweeps through and causes the room to howl. Felix shivers.

In the corner, their suitcases have been piled neatly against the wall. Jisung drops his hand in order to rummage through the cases. He pulls one that's bright red and covered in lizard stickers just as Felix spots his own. It's dark blue and beaten up, with his baggage tag from the trip from Australia still attached to the handle.

"I like your case," he says. Jisung hasn't said much since they left the hall, and Felix is beginning to worry that he completely misjudged his personality. It's a nice-enough case anyway, and a compliment is bound to get him to talk.

Jisung looks down at his case, and then beams. "Thanks," he says, leading them back into the corridor. He doesn't say anything else, but then seems to realise that Felix was expecting more of an answer. "Oh! Sorry, I guess I must seem kinda rude. I'm just in a hurry because if we move quickly enough, we can claim the best room."

He pauses to start hauling his case up a large flight of stairs, and then grins a Felix again, "And trust me, you'll want a good room. Last year I got stuck with B6, and it's about the size of a _wardrobe_."

"They made you sleep in a closet?" Felix echoes.

"Nah, B6 is a single so it wasn't too bad," Jisung points them right, and they start making their way down yet another corridor, "Besides, it's the closest to the bathroom, so I made sure to use all of the hot water up as revenge."

They're beginning to slow down. This corridor is a little different to the rest. There's a soft rug down the centre of the floorboards, and the doors are much closer together than they'd been downstairs. The ceiling is lower as well, it doesn't seem as intimidating as before, and when Jisung suddenly stops outside one of the doors, Felix realises this must be the dorms. 

Sure enough, the golden plaque on the door they're hovering in front of reads 'B3'. 

"Here we are." Jisung rummages in his pocket for a few seconds, and finally produces a key. It slots into the lock easily. "All the bedrooms here have the same key for safety purposes. It's stupid, I know, but it means we can pull some really good pranks, so no one's complained. You'll probably be issued with yours some time tomorrow."

He opens the door, and steps inside.

The room is nice. It's larger than Felix would have expected from the outside, and much brighter. There are two single beds, one on each side, each with their own desk and tiny little sink. The wall opposite them is mostly taken up with a large window, looking down into the forest. By his side, Jisung throws himself onto one of the beds, pushing his face into the covers.

"Ah," he says, voice muffled by the duvet, "The sweet, sweet scent of victory."

Felix watches for a second. When Jisung doesn't look like he's going to get up anytime soon, he crosses the room, placing his suitcase on what must be his own bed. There are barely any clothes inside. Yellow Wood provides its students with a uniform to be worn to lessons, as well as branded clothes like the hoodie Jisung is wearing. And besides, Felix had to make room for something much more important. 

Cradled in the centre of his case, surrounded by his various supplies, wrapped in layers of clothes as not to get damaged, is a mess of wires and radio equipment.

Time to get set up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! please leave a comment, i love seeing what people think <3


	5. Chapter Four

_[The classroom is mostly empty. Discarded bottles of paint and crayons lie strewn on the floor, while the shrieks of children playing carry easily through the windows. But his little corner of the world is quiet and empty, as he sits alone]_

Seungmin's parents never thought much of their son. It wasn't purposeful or malicious, but simply in the way that two parallel lines never cross. They were just too busy, and he was just too quiet. 

Instead of talking, they raised him on picture books and television. It was the simplest way to keep a five-year-old distracted, as they drowned in endless piles of paperwork and folders. There was a countdown in one of the rooms until he started school. He'd be looked after then, and the TV would get a well-deserved rest.

It wasn't their fault, not really.

But it was their actions that kick-started the dominoes leading to Kim Seungmin and his journal.

Their child, unused to all of the sound and energy, was drawn to the side-lines. He didn't know how to interact. His picture books didn't talk back to him, and the other children had learnt from an early age not to interact with outcasts. The teacher was caught up in the same whirlwind as his parents, and so a year passed with no change.

It was normal for him to be sat in the corner.

The corner was quiet. It was clean, since no one dared go near him, and it was his. He would much rather stay here than go out and play. There was an invisible line between him and the rest of the world, one that they'd simply learnt not to cross. Here, he was safe. 

But that didn't stop those who didn't know him.

Their normal teacher was off. It was exciting, causing a buzz in the class as another lady walked in, but that anticipation was soon lost as she handed out the same maths books as always. Most of the children had forgotten that anything was different in the first place by lunch, and the playground commenced as normal.

The supply teacher, however, did not know about Seungmin's line.

"Here," she said, passing a few pieces of paper, a pen - an actual pen, not just a crayon - and a marked pile of workbooks the class had just completed, "If you're not going to go out and play, you may as well make yourself useful."

It wasn't difficult. Find the name and write down the corresponding number. Years of sitting alone and watching had made Seungmin perceptive in a way children usually weren't. He didn't question the task or cast a thought to his invisible line.

His first list wasn't a list of secrets.

But, as he watched the supply teacher twist her wedding ring anxiously, stolen paper and pen sitting safely in his bag, the second list certainly was.

\---

Changbin doesn't speak much.

Seungmin should have expected it, from how stand-offish he'd been on the bus, but he'd thought being around friends would cause him to lighten up. He'd looked more relaxed when he'd sat with - _what were their names?_ \- Jisung and... Chan.

But Changbin walks in silence.

He hadn't even said a word when they'd picked up their suitcases. It's just as quiet as they pull the cases up a flight of stairs, Changbin leading them to a corridor. The doors change here, closer together and with worn plaques set into their centres. There's a soft carpet beneath their feet, muffling their footsteps from the cold stone beneath their shoes. The ceiling is lower as well.

Changbin stops in the middle of the corridor.

He gives no warning, and Jeongin almost walks right into him. The younger boy practically squeaks in fear as he realises, jumping back a full metre to get away. The movement itself isn’t particularly interesting, but Seungmin can't help but smile.

Jeongin seems naive, as well as incredibly nervous. He's the youngest one here. That means he's the only one younger than Seungmin himself. That's a pretty disappointing fact in itself, but he can't choose to dwell on things that he can't change. He'd been so ready to play his caring older-brother act, but the innocent younger student one would have to work just as well.

But Jeongin is certainly an interesting one. It would be quite easy to write him off as innocent and boring, but there's something about him that has Seungmin intrigued. It's not the same curiosity that had drawn him to Minho, and yet it's also not his usual secret-hungry deception. He's hiding something, everyone is, but Jeongin is... different.

Being the youngest has certain benefits. He'll go unquestioned, smothered in an attempt to protect him from the 'big bad outside world', when he's probably just as strong as everyone else. And his nervousness quickly labels him as anything but a threat. He'd barely seemed to be able to control his thoughts earlier, and even Changbin had visibly softened at his apologies.

Seungmin's got to say, he was pretty surprised when Jeongin chose him to be his roommate. 

After Jisung and Felix had left, the room had fallen into silence. They'd watched as the two boys left, and then just had to wait awkwardly for Chan to speak again. He'd seemed lost in his thoughts. There was no denying what he and Minho had heard being connected to what the teacher had told Chan, but what else had been said? 

He'd been so caught up in his own suspicions and thoughts that he'd missed Chan being knocked out of his.

It was only after he finally worked out that they were speaking again did he realise the rest of the roommates had been chosen. Minho ended up alone in some strange twist of fate, although maybe Chan was just as on edge about his sharp tongue as everyone else. Seungmin couldn't say he blamed him. The way Minho had sized him up on the minibus had been interesting, to say the least. It was probably a good idea to give him his own space.

Chan didn't have to share, as dorm leader, and Changbin was with the boy who hadn't yet arrived.

Which left Jeongin and Seungmin.

Seungmin didn't know whether Jeongin had chosen him before or after Minho had been given a room alone. He hadn't been paying attention to the order they'd walked into the hall in. He didn't know if Jeongin had chosen him simply because he was scared of Changbin, or whether he thought Seungmin would be a good friend.

Whatever the reason, Seungmin can't deny the strange burst of affection that had bloomed in his chest as he'd realised that he hadn't been left out. That certainly made a change from the side-lines he was usually left at. This was probably the first time someone had ever actually chosen him for something.

Try as he might to supress the feeling, but something in his mind tells him that being friends with Jeongin might not be all that bad. 

It would be his first friend, there's no denyi-

"You can choose your rooms from here," Changbin says, bringing Seungmin back to reality. He gestures at the doors on either side of the corridor, "There's really not that much difference between them."

"How are we supposed to know which ones are already taken?" Minho asks, his suitcase trailing behind him. Chan had decided to stay downstairs to start setting things up, leaving Changbin to show them too their rooms.

Maybe Seungmin had been wrong about Minho. He seems cold, and he's definitely perceptive, but that icy exterior might just be a layer of protection. The cat stickers on his suitcase certainly says he's at least got a heart. 

"B1 is Chan's," Changbin says. He's already moved his suitcase to outside the room labelled B4. "B3 is the best outside of B1, but Jisung knows that, so he's probably already claimed it. B6 is a single, so you don't want to be there." He glances at Minho, "It's tiny, by the way."

"Are there any differences?" Seungmin says, looking up and down the hallway. There doesn't seem to any visible changes between them on the outside, but this is where he's staying for the next year. It's better to be safe than sorry, in any case.

Changbin shrugs. "Not really. B5 is slightly closer to the bathroom, but birds keep flying into the window. B2 is right above the staircase, so you can hear people coming up. It's annoying to wake up to in the middle of the night, but you never get in trouble for oversleeping."

Well, that makes things a little clearer. Seungmin wants B2. The only problem is how to convince Jeongin to take that room as well. 

"I'll just take B5," says Minho. 

He makes his way down the hallway, waiting for Changbin to unlock the bedroom door for him, and then enters without even glancing back. 

Jeongin turns to Seungmin and smiles. "I guess that leaves us with B2 then." He steps out of the way to allow Changbin to unlock that room as well. The older boy nods in way of thanks, and then lets himself into his own bedroom, leaving Seungmin and Jeongin alone in the hallway. 

"That's fine with me," says Seungmin, "It'll take more than someone walking up the stairs to wake me in the morning."

That's a complete lie; Seungmin's always been a light sleeper. But Jeongin doesn't know that. He laughs, pushing the door open to let them push their suitcases inside. 

The room is just as generic as he'd expected.

There's really nothing of interest. Two beds, one on each side of the room, and each with a corresponding desk. There's a large window taking up one wall, looking out partially into the forest and partially into the courtyard where they'd parked earlier. The dappled sunlight streams in through the open curtains.

Jeongin pushes his suitcase to the other side of the room, sitting gingerly on the bed. He watches as Seungmin starts to unpack his own clothes, obviously waiting to say something. 

"Yes?"

"Should we go and help?" It takes Seungmin a second to place what Jeongin's talking about. He's referring to Chan downstairs, probably feeling bad that they're just letting the older boy do all of the hard work. 

Does Seungmin really want to help? No.

Will he? Probably.

There's not much else that can be do sitting around and waiting in the room. Agreeing with Jeongin's suggestion will not only make him seem friendly, but might also open a few doors. It's perfectly acceptable to scout around the building if it's under the guise of 'helping'. And besides, Chan seems like he'd appreciate it. 

Despite his initial reservations, helping out is a sure-fire way of getting him to trust him already.

"Sure," he closes his suitcase again, straightening up, "I don't see why not."

Jeongin beams at him. He practically flies out of the room in his hurry to exit, pulling Seungmin down the hallway. Seungmin tries not to concentrate on where their skin is touching. Jeongin's hand rests on his forearm like it's the most natural act in the world, completely oblivious to how flustered Seungmin has become.

They find their way back to the main hall quickly. Although the corridors are still mostly an incomprehensible maze, the yellow sheets of paper direct them. The massive doors are equally as unmistakable. Seungmin just hopes Chan is still there.

"Uh-"

Jeongin hadn't spoken particularly loud, probably just figuring out how to get Chan's attention, but his voice echoes through the empty hall, getting the attention of the older boy. He waves them over to where he's standing in the corner, attempting to tug a large wooden table away from where it's currently leaning against the wall. Chan is nowhere to be seen, but maybe that's a good thing.

"Are you done already" Chan says, putting the table down. "Did you not want to unpack or anything?"

Jeongin smiles. "We were," he says, "But that didn't take long, so we thought we should offer to help."

Before he'd looked apprehensive, but now Chan smiles in return. He leans against the table, raising his eyebrows almost in disbelief. "You sure?"

They both nod. There's not much else to do, either way. Seungmin doesn't know if Jeongin's got any ulterior motives for suggesting this in the first place, but he doubts it. The younger boy just seems a little awkward. Seungmin can't tell if he's the one sticking to Jeongin's side, or whether is Jeongin that's following him around. 

Chan's smile grows wider at their answer. "You know, I really didn't think they'd expect us to do this much ourselves. There's so much to do." He looks worried for a split-second, glancing to the door behind him.

It's where he'd disappeared to earlier, where the teacher had called him up. They haven't seen or heard anyone older than Chan since they'd arrived in the hall. Seungmin doesn't mind. He's already got quite a good read on his personality. The Leader, right? The self-sacrificing type, just friendly enough that no one has it in them to hold a grudge. That must be how he manages to put up with Changbin, Seungmin smirks to himself.

"This isn't normal," he says eventually, when neither Jeongin nor Seungmin ask him to expand. Why would they need to? As they'd just seen, Chan would tell them anyway. He doesn't even think twice about unloading his worries onto two people he's just met. "It's pretty complicated, I don't want to bore you with the details. But... Ms Min seemed pretty worried."

He straightens up, plastering the smile back onto his face. "I don't want to worry you, so don't think about it too much. Right. Let's be smart about this, then. What did you two get into Yellow Wood for?"

There's a beat of silence, and then-

"Cooking," says Jeongin, all too fast. He's nervous. What for, Seungmin has no idea, but he's definitely nervous. No one replies that quickly unless they have something to hide.

And Seungmin just so happens to be an expert in secrets. 

Chan, however doesn't seem to notice that anything's wrong. If anything, he visibly relaxes. "Really? That's great! You can go and start work in the kitchens then."

"The kitchens?" Jeongin squeaks out.

"The kitchen staff don't arrive for a couple more days," Chan continues, "I'm sure they won't mind if you start without them, especially if you're an expert. I can't see why you shouldn't make a start now."

"Right." Except- he doesn't make a move to leave. They end up standing in silence for another few seconds, right past where it would be comfortable and into awkwardness.

Seungmin's hand itches. Jeongin looks so nervous, and the paper of his journal is calling out to him. He'd been so caught up in following Minho, and then finding his way to his room, that he'd completely forgotten about his secrets from the bus. There's something off here. There _has_ to be. Just like the fact that none of the teachers are here, the 'ill boy' that Chan had so conveniently left out when explaining why they were alone. 

Something is definitely off. Jeongin, just like the teacher’s absence, is hiding something. 

And Seungmin just has to find out what it is.

"And- uh - where are the kitchens?" It's a nice save. Jeongin's voice doesn't even break, and the awkward silence quickly dissipates. What might have become incriminating and suspicious now just seems polite. Of course, he didn't want to say anything else, he didn't want to appear rude. 

Chan, and most other people, would never know the difference. 

"Uh, hold on," he rummages in his pockets for something, eventually pulling out a crumpled sheet of paper and unfolding it. On it is a mess of black lines, scribbled seemingly at random. "I drew this earlier, to give to the new kids, but I didn't expect there to be so many of you. I'll have to make more copies later."

Jeongin points to a scrawled word on what appears to be a room to their right. "Is that- does that say Kitchen?"

Does it? It looks illegible to Seungmin, but he couldn't even tell that the piece of paper was supposed to be a map. Sure enough, when he looks closer, he can just about make out a 'K' at the beginning. 

Chan seems to be having just as much luck as him. "I think so," he says eventually, passing the sheet to Jeongin. "This is why I shouldn't try and write on the minibus. That's definitely _supposed_ to say kitchen, though. Head over in that direction, and you can't get lost."

Jeongin nods. Taking the paper in one shaking hand, he makes his way out of the hall, disappearing into one of the many endless corridors. Seungmin watches as he goes. The curiosity hasn't faded yet, instead being replaced with a kind of excitement. The thought of a new secret sounds sweet to the journal tucked under his arm.

"What about you?"

"Me?" Seungmin says, more out of surprise than anything else. He blinks once, and then realises what Chan's referring to. "Oh. I'm a writer, I guess."

"You guess?" He glances at the journal that Seungmin's holding, the pen visibly peeking out from the pocket on his trousers. 

Seungmin just nods.

What more does Chan want him to say? What can he even help with, anyway? He can't exactly write a letter _asking_ for the chairs to stack themselves, and the tables needing to be unfolded don't have many secrets to tell. Besides, he doesn't want any awkward questions about his journal. The encounter with Minho earlier was already closer than he liked.

"You can start taking an... inventory of sorts," Chan eventually says. There's a high stack of papers behind him, and he rummages through. They look pretty important. Seungmin whether Chan is supposed to be giving him permission to look through them. He can't decide whether it would be more interesting if he is or not. "Here."

Seungmin is handed a blank sheet of paper.

"What's this for?"

"Inventory," says Chan, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Start with who's sleeping in what bedrooms, and stuff like that. You can probably improvise from there."

Right. He can 'improvise' from there.

But it's a good deal, and Seungmin doesn't want to risk pushing his luck this early. Chan seems pretty friendly, but it's better not to test his boundaries until it's really needed. He might be holding back a sharper side behind that amiable exterior. 

"Thanks," he says, in way of a reply. It _is_ a good deal. He'd find out who was staying where anyway, but this is more than simple inventory. Add a few questions here and there, in-between the conversation, and no one would know any better. 

He smiles to himself as he takes off towards the stairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you're all safe and well, please remember to wash your hands! hopefully things will get better soon <3
> 
> thank you so much for reading! this chapter isn't my favourite, but i hope you enjoyed anyway!


	6. The Radio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i know this is short and also a terrible way to return to this fic, but i'm not accepting any critisism. we don't talk about this fic's awful chapter to word count ratio here

_[There's the familiar buzz of static. It bursts into life for a few seconds, before dying back down with as much ferocity as it had appeared with. The radio set-up is nothing more than a tangle of wires at the moment, and so the crackle of the broadcast system coming online is lost beneath the sound]_

"Jisung?"

The first voice that speaks is closer to the microphone, and therefore the words are much easier to pick up. There's a slight accent to their words, but not enough to make anything they say unintelligible. It's almost the opposite, in fact.

"Hmm?"

The second voice is faint. The microphone has to strain to make out the words that they say, and it doesn't help that whoever is speaking seems to be moving. They get closer and further from the radio system in an almost rhythmic fashion, always accompanied by the rustling of folded clothes.

"What's it like here?"

There's a pause, as the second person stops to think.

"If you're only asking that now, maybe you should have thought a little harder about agreeing to attend."

The silence that follows is short, just long enough to pick up the first person's shock without them actually needing to say something. And then -

"I'm joking!" The second person says, with a laugh, but there's a strange tone to their voice. "Honestly? It's okay. There's nothing too special about Yellow Wood, no matter how hard they try and say otherwise. Just..."

They trail off. Whatever they were going to say, they don't want to say it in front of the other person.

"...Just?"

There's another laugh, but this one is notably different in tone. There's another pause - for an action that cannot be picked up by the microphone, as the radio system has _never_ had a camera connected - before they start speaking again. "Don't get too attached."

Is their voice bitter? It would be easier to tell if there was an accompanying picture of the expression with which the words were spoken. As it is, the strange tone remains unidentifiable, and the conversation continues.

"Jisung," says the first voice, and it's further from the microphone now, "Are you okay? You look a little - I mean, I can stop asking questions if you want - "

"No - no, it's fine. It's just - do you remember Chan and Changbin?"

There's another pause, maybe as the two names register with the first voice. The awkward silence extends for a few moments longer before anyone speaks again.

"Shit, I'm terrible with names."

When the second voice laughs this time, it's genuine. "Uh, Chan is the dorm leader. He's the one with curly hair - and he was called out - so he's pretty easy to remember. Changbin is the one who thinks he looks cool when he's being all moody, but he's a real sweetheart otherwise."

"Changbin's the grumpy one, right? You're calling him a _sweetheart?_"

The second voice laughs again. "Ah, he's just warming up to you." He coughs, and just like that the mood has completely sobered. They're back to the first topic of conversation, and the memory of any laughter is gone. "People leave Yellow Wood after their first year, you know that?"

"I'd - I hadn't thought of that, but you're right. I thought it was strange that there were so many people in their first year here, but I'd assumed that everyone had aged out last year."

There's a hum of acknowledgement, not agreement. "Yeah, that's not true. People just... don't get on here. I don't really know the reason myself -" There's a snort of laughter "- That's probably the reason why I'm still here. Sometimes they don't even make the whole year, they're just... gone, one day."

A ghostly silence falls over the room. There's the creak of a chair, and then the static is back, joined by the rhythmic tapping of buttons being pushed and wires being connected. The sound quality decreases dramatically, but the two voices are still clearly audible.

"It's probably nothing," says the second voice. They've stopped moving now, and the creak of bed springs betrays where they are. "When I first got here, Chan had a ton of theories about it. We were_ convinced_ that there was some sort of conspiracy."

"Was there?"

"What do you think? Of course not. We were just stupid kids; you know how it is."

There's a beat of silence. "Jisung, how long _have_ you been here?"

The second voice laughs again - the genuine one this time - and the bedsheets rustle. "You sound so worried! What, do you think I'm a vampire or something? Don't worry, it's only been three years. I told you, we were just stupid kids."

"And-"

"Changbin's been here for two years, Channie for... four, I think? It might be four and a half, thinking about it. I'm pretty sure he transferred from Australia halfway through one of the terms."

"_Aus-_"

"That doesn't really matter, though, since I don't think he's left South Korea since he first arrived at Yellow Wood. He's definitely the favourite student here. All the teachers love him - that's why he was made dorm leader with Jihyo - but since there's no girls dorm anymore -"

The second voice stops rather abruptly, with a hiss of realisation. "Sorry," they say, "I ramble a lot. Just... stop me if you notice it, I know it's annoying."

"It's fine," says the first voice, a hint of surprise in their tone, "I don't mind. But - what did you mean about a girl’s dorm? I thought this was - I mean, I didn't see any female students here."

There's a pause. The slightly strained silence from before is back, and the static whirring on the radio set picks up speed. The familiar crunch of metal shows that it's almost completed, and the faulty wiring that's causing this message to be broadcasted out is soon to be discovered. 

"Their wing collapsed. It was the first year I was here, so I don't really know much about it, but - a few people were killed. The stone walls are heavy, so they never really stood a chance. Especially when the dust - it was _everywhere_, we couldn't breathe properly for days. After that... they never rebuilt it."

"I'm sorry," says the first voice, "I didn't know."

"It's fine, I wasn't expecting you to. They covered up the story pretty well. I just assumed I'd have more time before you started asking questions, that's all. You can still see the ruins from the windows of -"

_[There's a click. The static cuts off almost immediately, with the sound of the two voices following just after. The broadcast has ended]_


	7. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> seungmin: hhhh i wonder what minho's thinking,, he's got to have some sort of master plan,,,, he's so perceptive,,, does he want to collect secrets like me?? does he want MY secrets????
> 
> minho: hehe i wonder how long i can mess with the others lmao

_[The curtains haven't been closed properly. Light spills onto the desk, illuminating the thick journal that lies open on the wooden surface. There are deep lines scratched into the paper, and the date at the top of the pages is from yesterday. The room is completely silent]_

Seungmin lies awake. He's always been a light sleeper, always woken up early, and today is no exception. In fact, today is less of an exception than any other day - despite that contradicting the definition of 'exception' in the first place.

He'd taught himself to wake up early.

The young hours of the morning were just quiet enough to provide the silence he needed to think. He'd had the night before to run over the secrets in his head, tasting their ink on his tongue and dreaming about the best way to phrase them. 

When he woke up, it was guaranteed that no one would disturb him. That way, he could make sure that every secret was painstakingly neat, descriptive and accurate where it sometimes hurt even Seungmin to read.

It was perfect, really. 

At the top of the page went the most useful. These were the secrets that made the page bleed with ink, the ones that people would pay to cover up. They only made their way to their pride of place after Seungmin was sure that they were correct, fact-checked and investigated until there was no longer any hope of denial. Underneath went a short list of dated evidence, names and times and locations that would be incomprehensible to anyone else.

After that came the connections. Small bits and pieces that Seungmin placed together, referencing pages of original appearance and comparing them. This was his least favourite part. Just shy from the tangible excitement of having confirmation, and yet nothing like the thrill of chasing down a new suspicion.

That was what came next: the suspicions. 

It was what took up the most space on yesterday's page. Everyone at Yellow Wood had made their debut there, and Seungmin had carefully inked in exactly what he thought was 'interesting' about each person. When they'd looked uncomfortable, how they'd interacted with each other, what possible things they might be hiding. It was all neatly noted down, categorised, and stored for a later date.

Unsurprisingly, he hadn't found out much yesterday. The inventory he'd done had been helpful, but he hadn't gotten too far before being asked by Chan to help put away various school supplier. They'd had a delivery, apparently, and the fact that none of the teachers were there meant that all the students were expected to help out.

As much as Seungmin would have liked to brush off the request, it was a move he simply couldn't risk at this stage. 

He's only got a few lines left on the page when Jeongin shifts in his bed. The younger boy is almost completely covered in his duvet, knees pulled up to his chest and blanket over his head. He had been facing the wall before, but has now turned to face Seungmin's bed. The desk is by the window, right between the two beds, so although there's no way Jeongin would be able to read Seungmin's writing from that position, it'll look suspicious if he doesn't cover it up quickly.

Seungmin stands, slips his journal into his bag, and picks up a book that he'd placed onto his bed just in case. The top of a page is turned over about a third of the way into the book, and so that's where Seungmin immediately starts to pretend to read. 

Not before he opens the curtains slightly wider, though. If Jeongin's awakening is sped up because of the light, Seungmin can agree that's what woke him too. It's the perfect lie. 

It only takes a few moments for Jeongin to shift again. He huffs in his sleep, slowly nearing consciousness, and uncurls, kicking his feet out from under the sheets. It's strangely fitting that he's wearing socks to bed; thick fluffy ones, in bright colours that are so neon they seem to reflect the sweet morning light. One has rolled down to expose his ankle, the other still half-way up his calf. 

Maybe it's uncomfortable, since Jeongin then rubs his legs on the mattress beneath him. His face is half-obscured by the shadows cast from his duvet, but Seungmin can just about make out the frown on his expression. Are his eyelids flickering open, or is it just the dappling from the trees?

No, it's not just Seungmin's imagination. 

Slowly, Jeongin pulls the duvet down from around his head, sitting up. His hair is all tufty, sticking up in multiple directions, but that's nothing compared to the angry lines on his cheek, cross-marking against his skin. His eyes are still squinting, staring away from the light with a determined pout on his face.

From the way he shifts, glancing down at the blankets around him, he must have forgotten where he was. The room is unfamiliar. It's the wrong colour, the wrong size, even the sheets have the wrong _smell_ for goodness sake - it seems so obvious to Seungmin that he should be able to work out where he is.

Maybe he'll just need a little bit of reminding.

Seungmin huffs, a strange parody of the noise Jeongin had made earlier, and turns the page of his book. In a loud room, it would have been silent. Here, the boy in the bed next to his looks like he'd just jumped out of his skin.

Seungmin had kept his eyes trained on the page, but when Jeongin turns around he glances up, freezing in place - _had he woken him up? he hadn't meant to, he's only been awake a few moments himself, the light had been too strong. he's so sorry_ \- giving him just enough time to take in his expression. 

And how delightful that is. 

Even in the yellowing light, the way Jeongin's face drops is clear to see. There's a brief moment of pure, unadulterated panic in his eyes, and then his features are schooled into a smile. A grin so perfect that no one else would ever look at it twice. Well, except maybe Seungmin (and Minho, if he's being pedantic).

Despite only having places his pen down a few minutes ago, Seungmin's fingers have started to itch. 

"The light-" Jeongin says, speaking first. Maybe he's taken pity on Seungmin's deer-in-headlights look. "Why are the curtains open?"

"They were like that when I woke up," Seungmin is quick to tell him, "It was right in my eyes, as well. I didn't want to close them and disturb you. Sorry."

"It's fine." Jeongin is just as quick to reply. He sinks back down into his duvet, the change in his posture more than telling. "I probably didn't shut them properly last night. Guess I was just home sick." He smiles at Seungmin, showing off the neat lines of braces on his teeth, "Thanks for not waking me up."

"No problem."

"Although," now that he's awake, it seems like there's no stopping him. Jeongin sits back up again, this time with a lot more purpose. His eyes are open, for a start, and he's looking right at Seungmin with a glint in his eyes, "Maybe that wouldn't have been too bad. For some reason, I'm _starving._"

He's hungry?

Seungmin's mind clicks into place, one step behind. He glances down at the paper in his lap. Now that Jeongin mentions it, Seungmin is hungry as well. They'd eaten late last night - Chan having apologised for the lack of organisation - but it had only been packs of instant noodles. The food for the term hadn't arrived yet, and even Chan didn't have the authorisation to open some of the storage cupboards, apparently. 

It would make sense that they were hungry. And, more importantly, it's a distraction.

"Huh," Seungmin says, "I guess I am as well. What time is it? When do they serve breakfast?"

Jeongin leans so far out of the bed he almost slips off of the mattress, but he grabs his watch successfully. The wall shields the back of his bed from the sunlight, making it too difficult to see the face of the watch, and so he leans forwards. It gives Seungmin a first-hand view when the expression on his face changes to a frown.

"Huh."

"What is it?" Seungmin had checked the time himself, when he'd first woken up. It had been around 6:00 then, but plenty of time had passed since that point. He had a bad habit of getting caught up in his journaling, and yesterday had left him with a lot to get written down. In all honesty now, he has no idea what the current time is.

It can't be too late, though. Surely the teachers would be there to wake them up. As far as he knew, they went downstairs and were served breakfast early in the morning. It was highly unlikely that their room had been missed or anything like that. With only nine - eight, even - students, it couldn't be that hard to keep track of them all.

"It's just- it's later than I thought it would be."

Seungmin raises his eyebrows. He doesn't want to seem pushy, but he's certainly curious now. The confusion on Jeongin's face seems genuine. 

He doesn't need to wait for long, as Jeongin glances up, as if remembering that Seungmin is still there. "It's quarter past nine," he explains, "That can't be right."

It... does seem strange. "It's unlikely that your watch is wrong," he points out, "There's got to be another explanation. If only they'd handed out a schedule. That way we might actually be able to work something out for ourselves, instead of having to ask the others."

"We should ask the others," Jeongin echoes. Then, as if he'd only just heard what he'd said- "We should ask the others! Felix- he's rooming with Jisung. They'll know for sure."

Felix and Jisung? 

It's a good idea, Seungmin doesn't know how he hadn't thought of it himself. "That's a good idea. Jisung seems like he's been here a while. Even if this isn't normal, he'll know what to do." What he doesn't say, is that he'd like to get to know the other boy a little better. Both Jisung and Felix seem interesting, and Seungmin likes interesting things. 

With not many other options, they end up making their way down the hall relatively quickly. Seungmin provides the dorm number from the inventory he'd done yesterday, and soon enough they're huddled around the door to room B3. The corridor is surprisingly cold, and both boys are still only wearing their pyjamas. 

It's Felix who opens the door. He squints at them, looking them up and down in confusion.

"Come in," he says, pulling Seungmin in by the arm when he hesitates for a second, "It's freezing out there, you're letting all the cold air in." Jeongin is quick to follow, not wanting to be dragged like Seungmin, and soon all three boys have piled into the small bedroom.

It looks similar enough to Jeongin and Seungmin's own room: the same colour paint on the walls, same desk in the middle of the room and same ancient locks on the windows. The view is slightly different, but Seungmin doesn't care enough to pay too much attention. 

Instead, his eyes are immediately drawn to Jisung and Felix themselves. Much like Jeongin and Seungmin, it seems like they've only just woken up. Felix had stumbled when he'd shut the door, an eye-mask still resting on his forehead. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he crashes back onto his bed as soon as the door is closed. His pyjamas are bright - just as Seungmin would have predicted - and his clothes are neatly packed away.

Jisung, on the other hand, seems to be a disaster waiting to happen. He's sat up, but so swaddled in his duvet that he looks more like a marshmallow than a human. His hair is sticking up in every angle possible, and his cheeks have grown bloated with sleep. The clothes at the foot of his bed are so messy that they look like they've been there for months. 

On the desk is perhaps the most interesting thing in the entire room. A set of wires, receivers and radios has been painstakingly displayed, connected to panels of knobs and buttons that might've well have been written in a foreign language. 

" 'thought you were the teachers," Felix says. He notices Seungmin looking at the mess of electronics and shifts on his bed, protectively closer. "Thought we were gonna get breakfast or something."

"Breakfast," Jisung mumbles after him, staring into space. So much for coming to their room for his advice.

"That's what we thought too!" Jeongin exclaims. "Or, well, we were woken up by the light. But then we wondered why the teachers hadn't come to wake us up. I don't know if that's normal here or now, but it's pretty late-"

He glances over to Jisung. The older boy is still staring into space. It seems like he hasn't even heard the barbed words aimed at him, as he stays completely motionless for a few more moments. And then, all at once, it's like he springs into life.

He jumps out of his bed, almost tripping over the end of the mattress, and then getting his foot caught in a pair of jeans immediately afterwards. Once he's stable on his feet, it's like he'd never been asleep at all. "No, this isn't normal. No idea what time it is, but it's probably not normal."

"It's 9:15," Jeongin supplies.

Jisung's face twists into surprise, even though he surely should have been expecting it. "That's _late_. We're usually woken at 7:30, with breakfast at 8:00. Maybe 8:30 on a weekend, but-" he whistles, long and slow, "This isn't normal."

"What do we do next?"

It's Felix who speaks. They've all turned to face Jisung, who's quickly become the impromptu leader of their little gang. Despite the fact that the boy seems incapable of actually being a leader, he's the only one of them there with any knowledge of Yellow Wood. That puts him in charge. 

"Go down to the kitchens and check?" Jisung shrugs his shoulders. He's about as sure of this idea as the rest of them are, but it's the best they've got. Seungmin tells him so, and within a few minutes the four of them are piling back out into the freezing corridor, making their way downstairs and towards the room where they'd usually be eating. 

It's not a long journey, but the twists and turns in the corridors make Seungmin's head spin all the same. Yellow Wood seems to have been built like a maze, with every passage leading to only more identical corridors with identical doors. 

He's sure it's not like that in reality, and that he'll learn to find his way around eventually, but when Jisung eventually takes them to a large set of wooden doors, Seungmin can't help but think that they've already travelled down this hallway at least three times.

They hover outside of the door nervously. No one except Jisung has any idea of what to expect behind the door, and even Jisung himself doesn't look too confident. He's lost his smile from earlier, and now worries his bottom lip between his teeth. 

No one wants to step forward, because no one's quite sure what they'll find on the other side.

"We can't stay here forever," Felix says, after a few more tense moments of standing still. Seungmin recalls that he hadn't eaten as much as the rest of them last night - running back up to his room at the first chance he'd gotten. It had seemed strange at the time, but now Seungmin's realised that he must have wanted to finish setting up his... radio equipment. 

He doesn't step forward himself, but the sound of his voice has gotten Jisung's attention. Snapped out of his own thoughts, the cheesy grin is back on his face. "You're right. What are we waiting for?"

With that, he plants both hands onto the heavy door and _pushes._

The room is empty. There are no steaming plates of cooked food, no bowls or plates, no boxes of cereal or cartons of milk. There isn't a single table set out, and all the chairs are still stacked neatly against the walls. The only way to tell that is where they'd be expected to eat is the large hatch on the right wall of the room. It's where the food should be served from, except it's very clearly closed. 

Standing in the corner of the room is Chan.

He's leaning against one of the chairs, holding something in his hands and frowning at it intensely. He mustn't have heard the door open, as even the sound of four pairs of footsteps entering the room doesn't get him to look up.

Whatever's in his hands can't be good.

"Chan?" Jisung's voice breaks the precious silence. It's strange how quickly the school's 'ace' student has been sapped of all confidence. It's even stranger the way that he looks at Chan. "What's going on?"

Chan practically jumps out of his skin. It confirms Seungmin's suspicions - that he hadn't heard them enter in the first place - and the way that his hands fly down to hide what he'd been holding is even more interesting. He hadn't quite been fast enough. Despite his best efforts, the bright colour of the letter had been incredibly obvious. It looks even stranger with the way that he's trying to hide it, and he must realise that eventually, as he sets it down onto the seat of a chair in front of him. 

"You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Jisung smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Chan's attempt to lighten the mood falls flat without anyone to back it up. Even with yesterday's attempts to make it seem like everything was okay, it's quicky becoming clear that this isn't normal. That something is wrong. 

"Chan," Jisung says, "What's going on?"

Chan doesn't reply, but keeps smiling. He glances down to the letter once or twice, so subtly that it would be easy to miss if you weren't looking for it. Almost imperceptibly, Jisung nods. 

The sound of even more footsteps behind them interrupts the obvious silent conversation they were having. It's not the teachers - although that's becoming less and less surprising by the minute - and instead Changbin and Minho push the heavy doors open, joining the rest of the students inside.

"Is there a party in here, or something?" Minho asks. They're both still wearing their pyjamas as well, but the contrast between the two boys is enough to put the slightest hint of a smile onto Seungmin's face. Minho's shirt is dark blue, matching his long-legged trousers. There's a tiny pocket on the left-hand side of his shirt, with an equally miniature MP3 player poking out from within. 

Changbin immediately gravitates to Jisung's side. Seungmin's not sure what he expected him to be wearing - from the sullen impression the older gave off, possibly an all-black ensemble - but _pink_ would not have been on his list of guesses. His t-shirt is pale and faded, but still undeniably the colour, and his grey pyjama shorts and decorated with cute love-hearts at the bottom. It's more impressive how he isn't cold, really.

"We heard you talking in the corridor," Minho continues, shooting a glance at the boys that had probably woken him up, "And followed you down here. I'm assuming that this isn't normal?"

Chan seems to consider lying for one brief moment, before giving up. He shakes his head, "No, it's not. There are some... unforeseen circumstances this year, and the teachers have left to go and come to an arrangement. I hope it's not too much of a disturbance."

"Oh, it's not," Minho says. He's not smiling, yet his words don't sound mean or harsh at all. Simply as if he'd been curious. Seungmin wonders if that's all there is behind his elegant facade - curiosity, and the desire to create mischief. Surely it can't be that simple. _Surely._

It seems to fool Chan, though He smiles back. "To be fair, I only woke up about half an hour ago myself. We're going to have to make breakfast ourselves, and it took me that long to locate the keys to the food cupboards."

No mention of the letter? Seungmin's mind is working in overdrive.

He's so caught up in speculation that he almost misses Chan raising his hand. There's a glint of silver, and then the keys are flying across the room. Jeongin has to lean forward to catch them, almost stumbling over his own two feet in his surprise.

"You got in for cooking, right?"

Jeongin nods. He straightens himself back up and clutches the keys closer to his chest. Something about his expression is slightly off, but it could just be chalked down to having been caught off guard so early in the morning. It rubs Seungmin the wrong way, though. The expression on Jeongin's face when he'd realised where they were this morning still hasn't left his mind.

"Great! You found the kitchens okay yesterday, didn't you? The food cupboards are nearby - just down the corridor and through a main storage room. It shouldn't be that hard to find, so you don't have to worry about getting lost"

Maybe Chan's picked up on that strange falter in his expression too. Or maybe he's just thinking ahead. Either way, now that Jeongin's stepped out of line, his face has been hidden. Apart from attempting to read his body language, Seungmin has no idea what he could be missing right now.

It doesn't seem to affect Jeongin that much, however. "That's fine," he says, his voice calm, "I'll do my best!" 

He makes his way out of the room without looking back. Seungmin's feet itch to follow him, but he stays perfectly still instead. He's just going to have to be patient.

"The rest of you-" Chan looks them up and down, the frown lines on his forehead becoming a little more pronounced, "- set up the table. Everything's been put away for storage, so there's enough work for you all to help out. Just- ask 'bin or Jisung if you can't find something, okay?"

There's a beat of silence as they take the instructions in. Chan turns to leave - whatever's on his mind is obviously urgent - but Minho takes a step forward and coughs into his hand.

"And you?"

Chan freezes in place. "Pardon?"

"What about you?" Minho says, raising his eyebrows. Again, Seungmin gets the feeling of awe washing over him. Somehow, Minho is as confrontational as possible and still doesn't seem suspicious. He looks more... confused than anything else, and he certainly doesn't have any clear motives.

"I've got other business to attend to." Chan says, smiling with a rather confused expression on his face. He straightens himself out. "I don't want to seem like I'm abandoning you, it's just..."

"We understand," Jisung cuts in. Whereas Chan had looked more bewildered, Jisung is certainly more suspicious of Minho's cold glare. "You're Leader for a reason, Channie. Have fun with your boring meeting, or whatever. You're probably gonna be late."

Chan's eyes wide, the urgency from before setting back in. "You're right," he says, and then- "Good luck, guys!"

It's not sarcastic at all. His tone is just as genuine as the smile on his face, and then Chan is leaving the room, the door swinging shut behind him. They stand and watch it close for a few moments.

"You heard what he said," Jisung says eventually, clapping his hands. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we get to eat!"

It's lacklustre, but it's enough to get them moving. Everyone except Seungmin - and Minho - immediately start milling about, opening cupboards or starting to push the tables into place. The room fills with the hum of chatter.

Beside him, Minho scoffs. "You don't believe that for a second, do you?"

He's talking to Seungmin. There isn't anyone else near enough to overhear what he's saying. He wouldn't have spoken if there had been.

"What are you going to do?" 

Minho smiles, all teeth. He's startlingly pretty for a second, and Seungmin almost forgets how perceptive he is. He doesn't think Minho has malicious intent, but he's not quite sure what the older boy is trying to prove. He doesn't seem to collect secrets. So what's his deal?

He's not important enough to be graced with a reply, apparently. Minho is already moving away, on a beeline to the door. No one else has even noticed his movement, much like they won't notice his absence.

There's a strange feeling in the pit of Seungmin's stomach.

Minho hadn't noticed.

When Chan had left, he'd been distracted. Seungmin had assumed it was part of Minho's plan, but evidently not. Chan's letter - the one that he'd been so desperate to hide when they'd arrived - is still lying near where it had been set down. Maybe Chan's haste to get away had knocked it onto the floor. It doesn’t really matter how it got there. though. What's important is that the letter is hidden enough, moved by someone pushing a heavy chair over most of the body of the paper. They'll notice eventually, and then they'll put it somewhere safe. 

No one in here has the guts to read something of Chan's, not when he'd tried so hard to hide it. They were all too nice. 

He's faced with three choices. He can go for the letter, before anyone else spots it. He could follow his original instincts, and tail Jeongin to the kitchen, possibly find out what his roommate seems so intent on hiding. Or he could stick with Minho, who's almost certainly going after Chan.

Seungmin only has a split second to decide, and he knows he has to choose wisely.

_What to do?_

Follow Minho **X** **B **Follow Jeongin

**A**

Read Chan's letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, you guessed it, it's voting time baybee! for all three of you that actually read this fic, feel free to comment what you want seungmin to do, or go and vote on the poll in my [twitter](https://twitter.com/sunnyesque)  



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